


Touch Me Like a Summer Night

by cafephan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010!phan, Fluff, Reality, Songfic, tw mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25510636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafephan/pseuds/cafephan
Summary: A snapshot of Dan and Phil’s holiday to Jamaica.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	Touch Me Like a Summer Night

It’s exhilarating in some ways, natural in so many others. 

They don’t get any stares when a hand rests the other’s knee, no eye rolls of disapproval when they lean into each other, deep in laughter. Nothing but them, close friends, and oh so many bottomless drinks.

As time passes and they’re done staring at the sunset, everyone in their group having climbed over each other to get the best angle, eventually everyone peels away either in the direction of the bar or the dancefloor, swaying and laughing, screaming nonsense lyrics into the darkening sky.

“We could join them, you know,” Phil says, and nudges Dan’s ankle with his foot. 

Dan turns to look at him, and Phil’s already resting an arm on the table, his head placed on his fingers and a grin across his lips, an enticing result of holiday delirium and the line of rainbow shots from earlier in the evening.

“Neither of us can dance.” Dan replies, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Phil laughs and nods towards their friends on the dancefloor. “You’re saying they can?” 

As if on cue, one of their group slips to the floor, tripping over their own shoe. The others only notice when the song switches over. 

“Someone’s got to be the designated bag holder, anyway,” Dan says, biting the inside of his lip as he sees Phil’s eyes sadden for a moment, before they’re back to their teasing sparkle.

“It’s their own fault if they leave their stuff with the guy that loses his keys on an almost daily basis,” Phil shrugs.

Dan fixes him with a narrowed gaze. “That’s you.”

Phil blinks at him. “Oh yeah.” He nudges Dan’s ankle again. “At least when we live together you’ll be bringing that god awful key holder with you.”

Dan takes a sip of his drink to try and quell the way his stomach flips in excitement at the way Phil always says such things so casually. It fails, obviously.

“It was a prize from a university raffle, okay?” 

Phil smirks. “I thought the point of a raffle was that you come away with, you know, a prize or nothing.”

Dan picks out an umbrella from one of their friends’ discarded cocktail glasses and throws it against Phil’s forehead. They both watch as it falls into a different glass.

“Impressive,” Phil shifts forward to rest his head on Dan’s shoulder. “What else can you do?”

At this, Dan lightly flicks Phil’s head, and leans back in his chair. He watches as Phil does the same, crossing his arms and resting his head atop them, looking out over the resort.

The dancefloor has attracted more people in the past few minutes, Dan would lose track of their friends if it weren’t for the raucous laughter that would erupt from the middle of the floor every few seconds, often followed by a thump of sorts. It could be an unfortunately timed breeze, but he’s sure he hears Phil sigh softly from beside him. 

“Thank you again for thinking of me,” Dan says, gently knocking his knee against Phil’s. “To invite me on this trip, I mean.”

Phil’s gaze flicks to him, and his eyes soften almost instantly. “Of course.” 

He begins to reach for Dan’s hand, but stops short. He searches Dan’s expression. When Dan takes his hand, resting their interlocked hands between their chairs, he takes pride in the way the simple action still makes Phil’s cheeks flush. 

Phil then looks back out onto the group of people dancing not too far from them, and begins drawing loose circles onto Dan’s hand with his thumb.

Dan’s looking out to the horizon, internally hating that he’s eventually going to have to return to the same grimy four walls instead of the crisp Jamaican air, not to mention no longer having the added bonus of waking up next to Phil each morning. Sure, he spends the night occasionally, but it could never compete. The feeling of waking up beside Phil and knowing they have nothing to do, not needing to monitor what they say or how they interact, it’s something he craves.

On the outskirts of the dancefloor, a man holds a woman in his arms, both of them smiling widely as they lean in for a kiss, framed by the fading sunlight. 

“Like a movie,” Phil comments, and squeezes Dan’s hand lightly. “Isn’t it?”

“Let’s go make a cameo, then.”

He stands up from his seat, and looks down at Phil, who hasn’t moved, but is looking back at him with an amused expression.

“What?”

Dan feels the heat rush to his cheeks. “A cameo, you know, because you said they’re like a-“ he runs his hand through his hair and looks away. “Never mind.”

Phil laughs and practically jumps to his feet, and grabs Dan’s hand, yanking him up before he makes it back to sitting down. 

“It’s fun making you sweat sometimes,” he leans in closer, “And I mean that in more ways than one.” 

Dan tries to roll his eyes and scoff, but the urge to laugh at the ridiculous (yet accurate) joke is far greater. 

“I hate you so much.”

Phil sticks his tongue out. “Yeah yeah, so you say.” He squeezes Dan’s hand. “Want to go steal straight movie couple’s spotlight?”

He begins to walk away, but is stopped abruptly by the fact Dan hasn’t moved.

“We’re not going to be making out in the middle of the fucking hotel dancefloor, Phil.”

Phil raises an eyebrow. “Don’t underestimate my powers of persuasion in the long forgotten art of Lester dance.”

“The last time Lester dance was in effect I ended up with a bandage.”

Phil grimaces. “That was the dancemat’s fault, not mine!” 

“Didn’t work on the Tesco cashier, won’t work on me.”

“That cashier was won over by me, you had serious competition. Remember he gave me an extra pound change?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “An extra pound he immediately asked for back.”

Phil waves his hand dismissively, and begins tugging Dan towards the still-growing group of people, most swaying to a rhythm completely different to the music being played.

It starts out awkwardly at first, not really knowing what to do, standing close to each other and moving their feet from side to side. Then their eyes meet again, and Phil holds out his hand. 

Straight movie couple have now graduated to movie style slow dancing, hands all over each other and still kissing. 

But it’s not something they need nor have any desire to do, perfectly content to just be in their own little bubble, them and the music. It graduates into drunken Christmas party style dancing with their interlocked hands being held above their heads, matching grins as they jump along to whatever pop song is being blasted out. 

Nobody pays them any mind, and it’s that fact which makes them jump a little higher. Nobody analysing their every move, nobody demanding they have every aspect of their lives laid bare, no inclination to scroll through every social media platform’s indirects. Just them, alone and infatuated, the way Dan’s been hoping for it to be.

A couple of songs later, their group spots them and they join the throng, everyone jumping together, screaming the wrong lyrics, crashing into each other and accidentally hitting each other in the face when a particularly scream-worthy lyric comes on.

And at the end of the night, after their friends have stumbled back to their rooms, it might just be their favourite part. 

Tangled in each other’s arms, the music from outside now a gentle hum through the balcony doors. 

“I’m glad you trusted me out there,” Phil says, running his fingers through Dan’s hair. “It meant a lot.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me for that,” Dan replies, with a soft sigh. “It means a lot you’re willing to take it slow like this.”

“As slow as it takes,” Phil smiles, “My middle name could be turtle for all I care.”

“Philip Michael Turtle Lester?” Dan spells it out, then laughs into his pillow when Phil nods proudly. “I like it.”

Phil turns off the bedside lamp and they snuggle into the duvet, and into each other. 

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“This won’t be our only holiday together, right?”

Through the darkness, Phil’s lips find Dan’s. “I promise.” 

“Where?”

He feels Phil smile against his lips. “Someday, the whole damn world.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As you may or may not know i’m a huge Little Mix fan so I couldn’t not write anything for their new song Holiday, and so I wrote this little fic last night in honour of it! Title is obviously from Holiday too :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, means the world to me xx


End file.
